Creation
by Miss Lestrade
Summary: He's skinny. He's got issues. But he'll have to do.  This is the story of how Cobb enlists Arthur. Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own Inception. I think you should know that by now. ;)

* * *

CREATION

He woke up gasping, unable to breathe. His entire body shook uncontrollably as his hands fumbled to rip the IV from his arm. Air escaped from his teeth in a series of hisses and whimpers, and his vision blurred and faltered around the edges.

His legs wouldn't move.

His fucking legs wouldn't fucking move.

He tried to push himself up and swing them away from the bed, but the sudden rush of blood from his brain left him dizzy and reeling.

Someone was grabbing for his hands; pinning him down. He struggled, but the person only held on tighter.

"Relax, Jesus...Calm down! You're safe!"

"Get away from me!" he croaked, nearly sending himself tumbling. The other man grabbed him around the chest and kept him from falling off the bed.

"I said relax...you'll just make yourself sick."

"Who are you?" cried Arthur, finally managing to form coherent thoughts.

"I told you. My name is Cobb. Now calm the fuck down or I _will_ slap you; just like in the movies."

Arthur pulled in a shuddering breath and swallowed the excess saliva that had formed at the back of his mouth. His heart was still pounding, but at least he could breathe. "How did you do that?"

Cobb just smiled, slowly sitting down next to him. "I know the first time is hard. You'll get better."

"Who says I want to do this?" Arthur murmured, his voice still trembling. He stared at the small pinprick on his wrist; the only evidence of what he had just experienced. "This is insane. I just wanted..."

"Some therapy."

Arthur's chin dropped to his chest. "I just wanted to..."

"You wanted to talk to your brother. You wanted closure."

"But...can you...?"

Cobb looked down at his hands. "Let's get you some air," he said suddenly, reaching out a hand. Arthur shakily took it and let Cobb guide him by the elbow to the only open window. A cool breeze whipped across his face, but it didn't do much for his queasiness.

"I wanted to show you what's possible." He paused. "But doing this won't bring him back. It won't give you the closure you're looking for. You need a shrink for that, Arthur, I'm sorry."

Arthur didn't bother asking any more questions. Cobb had lied to him, and that's all he needed to know.

"I don't want to do this."

Cobb ran a hand through his hair. "I know you don't want to now," he said quietly, managing to catch Arthur's eye. "But you will."

Arthur's throat tightened and he wiped at the sweat that dotted his brow.

_Never_, he thought, _will I ever work with this son of a bitch. Ever.  
_

Cobb smiled slightly, as if he could read the other man's thoughts. "I'll get you some water."

He placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder, only for a moment. And then he was gone.

Arthur touched the windowsill with a fingertip. He'd do anything to make his dreams stop, so how could he possibly live in one? He glanced over his shoulder, thankful that Cobb couldn't see his face. But if he could control his dreams...learn how to make something out of nothing...

_Creation_, he thought.

Arthur was a builder. His foundation had crumbled, and there was nothing left to do but destroy what remained before it did the same to him.

It was too late to fix things. But it wasn't too late for creation.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN**: Wow! I never expected such a response from you guys! :D I wrote this story because I felt that there weren't enough "Arthur-and-Cobb-care-about-each-other" fics, and I'm glad I did! Thanks so much for reading and making me feel so special. By the way, I know this chapter is short, but I felt that it needed to stand alone. :P

* * *

CREATION

II

"Shoot me."

"Wh-what?"

"You heard me," replied Cobb smoothly, slipping his gun into Arthur's long fingers. The younger man just stared at it, his eyes widening. He held the weapon as if it were a dead rodent, the corner of his lips twitching.

"I can't," he whispered. Cobb sighed and reached for Arthur's shoulder, only to have him flinch away.

His hand dropped. "Look," he began slowly, as if speaking to a child, "If they're torturing me, and you have a chance to send me back, what are you going to do?"

Arthur looked at his feet for a moment before staring emptily down the deserted intersection. Everything was quiet for a moment, except for the wind that whistled through the buildings and alleyways.

"It depends, though...doesn't it? What if you can get away, if I just wait a while?" Cobb was momentarily stunned by Arthur's willingness to play along. He'd known somewhere deep down that the kid was capable, but he hadn't expected him to catch on so quickly.

Still, Arthur wasn't the sort of person Cobb had envisioned for this job. He was too skinny, for one thing. His hair was too long and always fell in front of his face, shielding his eyes. And those eyes of his! He often wore an expression on his pale face that would make a little doe proud.

"I'm not going to shoot you," continued Arthur, pushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. Cobb rubbed his eyes in frustration.

"You have to start sometime. I'd do it for _you_, if you were being tortured."

"Is that...some sort of twisted compliment?"

"Maybe."

The ghost of a smile began to show itself on Arthur's features, but it quickly disappeared. He looked back at the gun and turned it over in his hands. "I've never shot anything before."

_No shit_, Cobb thought. But he couldn't deny that he felt bad for the kid. He knew it was going to be hard; he'd gone through the same sort of training himself. As he watched Arthur struggling with his faraway thoughts, Cobb let his mind drift for a moment. He wondered what the hell this kid had done to make him feel so guilty for his brother's death. He knew they must have been close; Arthur's body language showed his suffering clearly. It was almost painful to watch sometimes, and the idea of feeling such emotions was terrifying in itself. Cobb couldn't imagine losing his wife; couldn't imagine what it would do to him.

Arthur cleared his throat, and Cobb slowly looked down the barrel of the gun, his eyes traveling down the outstretched arm. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that Arthur's hand was steady. But his eyes were distant, as if he had found solace in some secluded corner of his consciousness.

And then it happened. Cobb gasped suddenly, feeling as if he'd been yanked off the ground and thrown through the air. It took him a moment to realize that he was in bed, attached to the IV that he'd stuck in his arm only minutes before.

"Shit," he breathed. He put a hand over his heart to calm himself.

The kid had actually done it.

It took a full minute or so for Arthur to wake up, however. The moment he did, "I'm sorry" came tumbling from his lips. "I'm so sorry," he repeated, his voice shaking. He wiped furiously at his eyes and buried his face in his hands.

Cobb wondered if it was the murder or the suicide that had bothered him the most.


	3. Chapter 3

CREATION

III

Arthur got his first true taste of confidence when Cobb tried to make him learn how to fight. He'd merely kept his head down the whole time, listening to Cobb going on and on about how to defend oneself against unexpected attack. He didn't know that Arthur had already learned all that from his father, back in high school. He'd learned it because his dad had been in the army, and his father wasn't the sort of person who heard the word "no" a lot.

"The good thing about being in a dream," Cob was saying, "is that we don't actually get hurt. But, it _will_ hurt if you actually get hit, you know that. So, if you want to stop..."

"I don't think I will. Let's go," Arthur said firmly, pushing his hair away from his face. He flexed his fingers and waited.

At first, neither of them found an opening. Cobb was stunned at how much Arthur already seemed to know about self defense, and at one point he grinned. "Jesus, Arthur, why didn't you tell me you could fight?" He bounced back a bit, studying the younger man appreciatively.

"My dad taught me," Arthur replied nervously, never taking his eyes off Cobb.

"He did well, then. You're competent at this much, at least..."

Arthur bristled, although he knew the older man was just pushing his buttons. But the teasing had worked, and as he lunged forward, he knew that he'd moved too early. Cobb sidestepped him, slapping him lightly on the cheek in warning. "Careful," he said. "I could've gotten you there."

Arthur pulled back, ground his teeth, and steadied himself. The rest of the session went by in relative peace; neither of them found another opening.

Later that evening, Arthur found himself sitting at a table in Cobb's hotel room, listening with interest to detailed accounts of his past heists. Despite his weak protests, Cobb had insisted upon ordering Arthur a full meal so that he wouldn't feel guilty eating in front of him. "You're a stick," he'd said, waving a hand dismissively. "You can stop dieting now, I think."

Arthur nibbled absent-mindedly at a piece of bread, perfectly content to listen. He hoped the conversation wouldn't turn to him or his past, because he didn't think there was anything he could say that wouldn't pull upsetting memories to the surface. Thankfully, Cobb seemed to realize that, so he just kept talking and let his apprentice remain comfortably silent.

"You're good at what you do, Arthur," he said suddenly, in between bites of steak.

"What?"

"The details, twists, and turns that you put into the dreams. They're excellent."

"Really?" Arthur asked, before he could stop himself. Cobb chuckled and nodded.

"When I first met you, I didn't think you could do it. But now...I guess I was wrong. You're good at puzzles."

_Arthur was sitting with his little brother, staring at a maze from the yellowing, foul-smelling puzzle book he'd found buried in his mother's closet. He tapped his pen against his leg as he formed paths and tested them in his head. Finally, he smiled triumphantly and elbowed his brother in the ribs. _

"_I did it," he sang, tracing the correct path with his finger. "See that?" _

"_Shit," the kid said happily. "You did it faster than anybody. You're good at these, man." _

"_I'll always be better than you, anyway," he replied, earning himself a shove. _

Cobb snapped his fingers in Arthur's face, making the younger man jump. "What happened there?" he asked, studying Arthur carefully.

"I, um... I was just..."

"Tired?"

Arthur clung to the lifeline Cobb had just thrown him. "Yeah." He grimaced slightly, but managed to turn it into a smile. "I'm just tired." A few seconds later, he had successfully shoved the memory down and distracted himself.

"Oh, and I've been meaning to tell you..." Cobb put down his fork and gestured to Arthur's head. "Cut your hair. I don't want it impairing your vision. For your own safety, you know."

Arthur grimaced once more. _Fuck you_, he thought. _I like my hair. _

The next morning, he stood in front of the mirror and smiled impishly at himself. He wouldn't cut his hair, but he didn't think Cobb would have a problem with it anymore.

With his hair pulled back from his face, Arthur barely recognized himself. He looked much older than his twenty-two years, and he wondered what Cobb would say about that. Not much, probably. But the fact that he was a man of few words didn't bother Arthur. In fact, it was a quality that connected them.

Without a second glance at the mirror, he sighed and shut off the lights.

Today, the prospect of spending time in a dream didn't seem so daunting.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN**: I took some liberty with this chapter...Basically, I made up where Miles worked (because I need him to be in the US now) and where the Cobbs live. But since my story is pre-movie, it shouldn't matter. Onward!

Oh, and there seems to be some confusion over whether or not Miles is supposed to be Cobb's father or Mal's. I just don't know anymore. xD

* * *

CREATION

IV

Arthur loved speaking with Cobb's father-in-law. They'd only met a few times, but Arthur could tell that he was a true gentleman and had the patience of a saint. Normally, they didn't visit the university to discuss work or practice. But today, Cobb had been very specific about going into Boston, so Arthur had packed his bags without complaint. Besides, it gave him an excuse to spend money on Belgian chocolate, something the professor and he shared a taste for.

Arthur placed his bag on the Miles' desk, and the older man smiled broadly at him. "Arthur! What a pleasure. I see Dom hasn't arrived yet."

"I don't know where he is." Arthur shrugged slightly and dug the chocolate out of the bag. He smiled and shook one of the boxes enticingly.

"Ooh," sighed Miles. "You spoil me, young man." He adjusted his reading glasses and cleanly picked the box from Arthur's fingers.

"You're welcome, sir."

"Gentlemen!" Cobb called from the top of the stairs.

"Finally made it, have you?"

"Took you long enough, Dom."

"I have an announcement to make!" Cobb bounded down the stairs and slung an arm around Arthur's shoulders. The younger man raised an eyebrow at this uncharacteristic behavior, but didn't protest. At least the announcement didn't seem to be serious or unfavorable.

"Mal's pregnant," Cobb said, his voice dripping with excitement and pride. Miles' jaw dropped. Arthur's eyebrows traveled further toward his hairline before he smiled. He'd never met the woman, but he'd only heard wonderful things about her.

"Wow, um, congratulations!" he said, grinning. Cobb hugged him reservedly and thumped him on the back a few times before moving to share a moment with Miles.

"Oh, Dom, I'm so happy for you! My little girl...My first grandchildren..." Arthur could hear the tears in his eyes. "This is wonderful news."

Arthur dug for the second box of chocolate and thrust it into Cobb's hands. "There you go. Women like chocolate, right? Give that to Mal for me."

Cobb laughed. "That's nice of you. But you're both coming with me to visit!"

Arthur was more than a little surprised. "You, um, want me there? At your _house_?"

"No, Arthur, I want you to wait on the neighbors' roof. Yes, at my house! Mal's been wanting to meet you."

"You talk about me at home?"

Just a few hours later, they were on a train headed to upstate New York. Arthur and Cobb shared a glance when they came to the only unoccupied group of seats. "New fathers get the window," said Cobb, shrugging apologetically.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "I get train sick."

"No you don't."

"Wanna take that chance?"

They both knew what he'd said was complete bullshit, but Cobb gave him the seat anyway.

* * *

_Blood. There's blood everywhere. There's enough to make the floor slippery, and Arthur can't walk without clinging to the wall. _

_His mother is screaming in the background, but he can't hear. There's a ringing in his ears that blocks out all other noise, and the beating of his heart is all he can feel. But he can smell the blood; the scent clings to his throat. _

_

* * *

_

Miles took Arthur's hand and held it tightly. "Easy, son," he whispered, leaning in close. "Breathe."

Arthur pulled in a few shallow breaths as his eyelids fluttered open. He glanced sideways at Miles and tried to say something, but the strength evaded him. Miles just smiled reassuringly, moving his hand to pat Arthur's arm.

"There you are. Calm down; you'll be right as rain in a minute."

A few minutes passed in relative silence before Arthur finally managed to ask where Cobb had gone off to. Miles nonchalantly checked his watch. "He hasn't been gone long. I just saw that you were struggling a bit to wake up." He paused and studied the seat in front of him for a moment.

"From the look on your face, I would guess that your dream has been bothering you for quite some time now."

"Yeah," Arthur muttered hesitantly. He leaned his head against the window, unmindful of the vibration.

"May I ask why?"

"What's going on here?" asked Cobb, who had just appeared behind him. He held the back of a seat with one hand and a tray of drinks in the other.

"We were just having a pleasant conversation about you," said Miles as he picked himself up. Part of Arthur desperately wanted him to stay, but his face didn't betray it. Cobb handed him a drink and sat down, upon which he extended the tray to Arthur.

"I don't like beer," he said, wrinkling his nose slightly.

"Then you're not a real man," replied Cobb tersely.

"But," Arthur continued with exasperation, "since you already spent the money on it..." He took a cup and raised it politely.

Miles leaned across the aisle and joined in. "To your health, boys," he said. His eyes lingered on Arthur, but only for a moment.

"Mal's going to love you," Cobb was saying. "She hates beer too."


	5. Chapter 5

**AN**: I know this chapter is a little short, but I ran into some writers block.

* * *

CREATION

V

"Arthur," called Cobb from the other room. "Come over here, there's someone I want you to meet."

Arthur put down the files he'd been reading with a sigh. It seemed like every time he sat down to finish his research, Cobb had something else he wanted him to do. Arthur dragged himself to the door, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm.

"In here," directed Cobb.

Arthur followed the sound of his voice to the main hallway. Standing with his partner was a well-built, sandy-haired man in casual attire. He held out a calloused hand, which Arthur shook curiously. "Hello, Arthur. I'm Eames. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Eames is the best forger around," added Cobb. This made the man smirk. "He'll be able to help us."

"Oh. All right, then. Good to meet you," Arthur said.

Eames turned to Cobb, his smile widening. "Well, he's adorable. How long have you had him for?"

Arthur twitched indignantly and straightened his back.

"A few months. He's the best at what he does, though." Cobb looked at his young partner and nodded proudly. Eames reached out and brushed an invisible speck of dust from Arthur's shoulder, looking slightly amused.

Arthur gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes a bit. He didn't think he'd done anything that warranted being treated like a baby.

"So, this man," began Eames.

"Ferguson."

"Right. How exactly are you planning on getting into his head?"

"He's got an office in London we're trying to recreate for the first level."

"London," repeated Eames, rubbing his hands together. "Wonderful town."

Arthur blinked. "Yeah, it's nice."

"You've been there?"

"Yes, I have. Now could we please focus a little?"

Eames looked injured. "Easy, darling, don't get your panties in a twist..."

Cobb hid his chuckle behind his hand. Arthur was getting flustered over nothing, and it was more than a little amusing to watch. He didn't think he'd ever seen anyone dig under the kid's skin like Eames could. But Cobb could forgive him. After all, Arthur's first real job was coming up in only two weeks and he was understandably nervous. Eventually, Cobb decided to stick up for him.

"Eames, pay attention," he said.

Arthur looked embarrassed for a moment, but when he spoke his voice betrayed none of his uneasiness.

Later, when Eames prepared to leave, he tugged on Cobb's sleeve and leaned down. "Is your kid all right?" he asked, his brow furrowed. "That boy's got something odd about him."

"He's fine; just a little nervous."

"Doesn't he get on your nerves?" he continued, stealing a disapproving glance in Arthur's direction. The younger man seemed to know he was being talked about, but he didn't move any closer. Cobb just sighed and told Eames to go home. The moment the door closed, Arthur snuck to his side.

"He's unprofessional," he muttered lamely.

"And you're uptight. Hopefully that'll wear off after this job."

Arthur shuddered. "If I screw up...do I get another chance?"

Cobb paused, thrown off guard by his seriousness. "Depends on how bad you screw up, I guess," he answered finally.


End file.
